


The Truth Behind the Island of Sodor

by Topsyturvy10



Category: Thomas the Tank Engine & Friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 09:37:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18385808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Topsyturvy10/pseuds/Topsyturvy10
Summary: I was asked by my teacher to write a gothic horror story, so of course, I decided to write about Thomas the Tank Engine. This is heavily inspired by Shed 17, so you should definitely give that a watch if you enjoy this.





	1. Prologue

They didn’t think it could be done. They called it impossible, nothing more than a mere dream. After all, nobody had heard of such a thing before. Steam trains had been constructed prior, of course, though one look at these trains would prove they aren’t your average locomotives. They’d called it impossible, they said it couldn’t be done, but anyone who knew Sir Topham Hatt knew that ‘impossible’ was not in his vocabulary.

The opening day was a success. No clouds were in sight, and the radiant sun shined down on the clandestine, remote island. It’d been the best place to test their discoveries, as very few people even knew the island had existed to begin with. Sir Topham Hatt had planned to change that, starting with the presentation of his revolutionary creations. He hand-picked a select few individuals to visit the island and see the locomotives, and they loved it. The praise was welcome, even if Sir Hatt had known they would enjoy it. After all, who had seen a sentient train before? Nobody, that’s who. Sir Hatt had been the very first, and for years he had kept quiet about his creations. Now, however, it was time to introduce the world to the Island of Sodor.

Business was booming. The public loved Sir Hatt’s trains, especially his signature one- a green locomotive with yellow lettering on his sides. Sir Hatt had named this train “Thomas,” after his business partner’s late son, Thomas Gotze. Thomas the Tank Engine was a happy little thing, who loved to entertain. The public loved to be entertained, so Thomas was a perfect match. The Island of Sodor housed a plethora locomotives, of all different natures and personalities, though none shone as brightly or smiled as widely as Thomas.

For many years, Sodor became a popular tourist destination, if only to see these fabled ‘Sentient trains.’ Thomas and friends were revered by all, and granted a celebrity status by the Mayor of Sodor. Everyone believed that these trains would be loved and respected forever, and that the Island of Sodor would prosper. However, like everything, Sir Topham Hatt’s locomotives wouldn’t stand the test of time. People stopped visiting, and one by one, the trains were shut away in their sheds. Sir Hatt was losing money, so he did the only thing he could think of. He left the Island of Sodor, forever, leaving his ‘revolutionary creations’ to rust.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get our first look into the main protagonist of the story.

It is now many years after the unveiling of Sir Hatt’s creations. It is many years after the Island of Sodor has been isolated, and it has been many years since the locomotives that were abandoned here have seen the light of day. I am honoured to even be able to visit, let alone document my discoveries. There were conditions in regards to my being here- I was not allowed to have anyone accompany me, and the only account of my tale may be the events I write down to share with whomever may be reading this. I have not been given permission to film, nor take pictures. The only images, recordings or audio of the events that took place many years ago, or even today, were those verified by Sir Topham Hatt himself. I suppose this would be because he would like to maintain a certain image, and he would like to continue to promote the Island of Sodor as somewhere that was family-friendly, but I firmly believe that my findings may contradict that image.

The entire island looks decrepit and ancient. I suspect that if people still visited, and if Sir Hatt still wished for people to visit, the island would not be nearly so run-down. They have not, however, and the island has been abandoned and neglected, and left to rot. The only indication that this was ever once a tourist attraction would of course be the (once) grand sign, welcoming anyone that wish- nay, that dared to visit. There were rumours surrounding the isle, of course, as any famous attraction such as this would garner. One example of these rumours would be the declaration that Hans Gotze’s son, Thomas, was actually alive inside the train. It’s all fruitless speculation, as nobody really believes that sort of thing, but… these sorts of rumours may in fact be what caused the Island of Sodor to become as… as uninhabited as it is. They may have indeed been the driving force behind the attraction’s closure, and they are most certainly a primary contribution to my being here in the first place. I myself do not believe the… the sheer nonsense spouted out by those who are still clearly in a lesser stage of development than I, but as a journalist, I aim to deliver what the people want.

What the people seem to want right now is for someone to justify their superstitions, one could assume. I believe that their fears are unfounded, but I am here to report, not to judge. Word is Sir Hatt did enough of that back in the day. Word is that he wasn’t the brilliant man everyone declared he was. Word is, he was the one supposedly orchestrating everything, and providing weight to the rumours that spread.

I must say, he doesn’t seem all that bad to me. Sir Hatt actually gave me permission to traverse the island as I saw fit, and document whatever I deemed relevant. The only catch to this was that I am under no circumstances able to go into shed number 17, which I deem a perfectly reasonable restriction. After all, what’s one shed, compared to an entire island? I believe that the people who created these rumours are simply jealous of Sir Hatt and Hanz Gotze’s locomotives, and of course, their genius intellect. 

However, as grand as it is to stand here and think of nothing, I must start to record my findings. Making a mental note of my surroundings, I head off in search of the brilliant locomotives I’ve been told tales of.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still writing this, and I'm aware that it currently isn't very gothic horror-y. Don't worry, that changes quickly! Thanks for reading, and I'll see you soon!


End file.
